


Sam 'n Dean & Salmon Dean

by sothatsagoodthing



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Credit for Salmon Dean goes to Jared Padalecki, Don't Judge Me, Gen, Jared is the best, Minor spoilers up to Season 11, Salmon Dean, Supernatural merchandise, brotherly teasing, love me some crack, really silly, supernatural books, this is silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 15:34:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7538287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sothatsagoodthing/pseuds/sothatsagoodthing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester has been through some weird-ass shit in his day. But this right here, this takes the cake. Meeting the antichrist, sharing a pizza with Death- none of that even comes close. This is, without a doubt, the weirdest thing that he’s ever seen.</p>
<p>Inspired by Jared Padalecki hilariously rambling about Salmon Dean, as well as all the beautiful weirdness the Winchesters encounter around every corner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sam 'n Dean & Salmon Dean

**Author's Note:**

> Here's Jared talking about Salmon Dean at JIBCon 7 (video link below- well worth watching!)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_S3MSaNvNrs
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story (despite it's ridiculous premise)! Remember, much like burgers do to Castiel, comments make me very happy!

Dean Winchester has been through some weird-ass shit in his day. 

He’s traveled through time and met both of his deceased grandfathers. He’s fought evil Nazi zombies, tiny, glowing naked fairies, killer clowns (twice!) and classic movie monsters.  
He’s provided family therapy for Lucifer and God, while the former was wearing his best friend in the world like a prom dress and he’s been dead more times than he can even count. And it’s not because he can’t count very high. It’s because being a Winchester requires lots and _lots_ of death. 

At the time he discovered the “Supernatural” books written about him and his brother without their knowledge by a prophet of the lord who, as it turns out, is actually God (and a fucking liar); he honestly believed his life had pretty much hit the ceiling of possible weirdness. That was before the convention, the cosplaying, the musical and the parallel universe where he’s some douchebag actor. (Sometimes he still has nightmares involving soap operas, alpacas and a Ruby whom he sincerely hopes is fake.) 

The concept of “Supernatural” merchandise, sadly, is not a new one. Dean has encountered plenty of T-shirts emblazoned with “Family don’t end with blood” or “Driver picks the music, Shotgun shuts his cakehole”, and honestly, shouldn’t he at least get some royalties for that or something? 

But this right here, this takes the cake. Meeting the antichrist, sharing a pizza with Death- none of that even comes close. This is, without a doubt, the weirdest thing he’s ever seen.

“It’s wordplay, Dean. ‘Cause it sounds like our names, get it?” Sam explains with a subtle smirk after Dean shows him the offending T-shirt. Of course he’s happy as long as the joke isn’t on him. 

“Yeah, Sam, I _get_ the freakin’ joke, I just don’t see how it’s supposed to be funny.”

“Well …”  
Dean can tell that Sam is trying outright not to laugh by now and frowns even more intensely at the black t-shirt, with the cartoon fish printed on it. Not just any fish though. This fish is wearing a leather jacket, has an amulet hanging around his neck (do fish even have necks?) and, strangest of all, appears to be running away on a pair of distinctly bowed legs.

“Why would you even give a fish legs?” Dean growls, “I mean what’s the _point?_ ”

“To make it look like you,” Sam says and hastily clears his throat to disguise a giggle.

“That’s just immature, man. And why are there bears? We - I mean in the books Dean doesn’t hunt freakin’ bears, does he?”  
Just when he had thought that Chuck couldn’t have done him a greater disservice in narrating his life’s story. He’s only glad that the Almighty’s writing career appears to be on an indefinite hold.

“I think it’s because bears eat salmon,” Sam replies, grinning as he traces his finger across the slogan emblazoned at the bottom of the shirt, “but see _“Salmon Dean is a fast fish!”_ so the bears can’t catch him!”

“Dude. Who the fuck even _thinks_ of this stuff? Oh, grow up!” Dean snaps at Sam, who’s giggling like "Salmon Dean" is the most hysterically funny thing he’s seen in his life.

“He’s got a gun!” Sam gasps, breathless with laughter, “How does he even fire it with his fish flippers?”  
With a noise of disgust Dean drops the shirt back on its pile and turns towards the door. They can shop for more plaid some other time.

“Come on. We're heading back to the bunker.”

“You want me to drive? I mean, unless you think your flippers are up to it.”

“God, I should never have shown you that!” Dean groans. This will likely provide fuel for Sam to tease him with for months to come.  
Just then Dean freezes. 

“What?” Sam asks, stopping behind his brother as they emerge onto the parking lot.  
With a little smirk, Dean raises his finger to point at the truck parked next to the Impala. More precisely, to the Truck’s bumper sticker which reads: “The Demon Blood made me do it”.  
Sam’s bitchface instantly activates and he spends a few seconds searching for a comeback, before simply settling on: “Jerk.”

Dean smirks even wider. “Bitch.”


End file.
